


if I'm telling the truth

by deanwinchesterissaved



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: Established Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, shane has a cold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23408497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanwinchesterissaved/pseuds/deanwinchesterissaved
Summary: "You were pretty out of it last night." Ryan leans back against the sink, sipping at his coffee."I say anything stupid when I was high on cold medicine?"There's a twinge in his chest, "Oh I dunno, what counts as stupid?"
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 12
Kudos: 233
Collections: Shyan Week 2020





	if I'm telling the truth

**Author's Note:**

> Yeet Shyan week day 6 prompt domesticity! Skipped two days and I'm back at it ya'll! Thanks to steviesfreckles and nxtal0ne for sprinting with me on discord to get this done!

It's not that Ryan wants Shane to be sick, but it really does not hurt to have an excuse to take care of the big guy once in a while. 

Shane grunts from beside him, grimacing when he tries to sit up from where he lay on the couch. 

"Woah there." Ryan reaches out to pull him up, "You want some more tea?" 

"Yeah, that'd be great." Shane's voice is scratchy. He rubs a hand down his face, tucking his legs close under the fleece blanket, making an appreciative noise in his throat when Ryan hands him the steaming mug. 

"Ugh, remind me not to get sick again."

"Oh I did plenty of that.” Ryan smirks, because he really, really did. “‘Shane don’t run in the rain’ I said, ‘you’ll get sick’. Then 20 minutes later the suspect was discovered with a severe case of cold." Ryan pitches his voice down into his theory voice, and he can’t help the giggle when Shane scrunches up his nose at it. 

As much as he’s glorying in Shane’s misery, it is a nice memory, Shane's wide-eyed grin as the rain rapidly plastered his hair onto his forehead, long limbs twirling in the downpour, drops painting across the joy that had been in the other man’s gaze, warming Ryan under his umbrella. 

Ryan thinks he’ll store it away, in a deep-down place. 

"You'd think you've never seen rain in your life, you were so excited."

"That's because LA is a desert that rains never, Ryan, I need my comfort rain-running."

"Well, you get rid of the fever first, then tell me about your freaky love for rain and how us Californians are soft lilies."

"You are." Shane mutters, shifting to brush a kiss into the back of Ryan's hand when Ryan reaches to feel Shane's forehead. “Oops, sorry, go, go wash your hands!” Shane calls, nudging at Ryan insistently until he got up, leaving Shane chuckling to himself nestled under the blanket.

  
  
  


After his last dose of medicine Ryan fusses Shane to bed, almost cooing when the taller man curls up under the comforter. Ryan is the one that usually needs comfort, hollow from overexposure on shoots or tossing and turning for days when he gets sick, so it's kind of nice that he gets to mother his boyfriend a little now. 

He climbs on the bed and tucks the blanket tighter around the two of them, settling down to face Shane. 

“You wake me up if you need anything in the night?”

“Sir yes sir.” Shane salutes him, it’s crooked and there’s way too big of a grin on Shane’s face, it’s so hard to not lean in. That’s what this whole ordeal has robbed him of, Ryan thinks glumly, the careful small touches and caresses that they had always taken for granted. He’s so going to double down once Shane gets better. 

Shane’s looking at him through his down tilted eyes, already sleepy, "You’re a gorgeous pizza."

"You're ridiculous," Ryan murmurs, giving the other man a peck on the nose, but his curiosity nudges him on, "You got any specific kind in mind?"

Shane hums, tucking himself against Ryan's side through the blanket he'd wrapped around himself, "Definitely deep dish."

"Oh yeah?" Ryan's heart skips a beat, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He's kind of fishing for compliments now, but it doesn't really matter when he gets to curl up with Shane at his side, "Because that's your favorite?"

"Cause it's like home."

Ryan stares, his breath caught in his throat, because he can’t bring himself to do anything else. Shane says it so easily, voice thick from the fever and sleep. Time stays still around him, the tenor of Shane’s words hanging in the air for seconds, minutes, hours even, Ryan’s not sure. 

The next time he focuses on Shane’s face, the other man’s eyes are already closed, breaths evening out as he drifted away, the huffs of air tinged with barely-there snores. 

Shane looks so young like this, the lines of his face smoothed out in sleep and hair still soft from the shower. Ryan looks at him, then looks some more. He’d never get tired of looking, even before Ryan caved and confessed his heart out, their lives were already tied so close together that Ryan hadn’t been exaggerating when he said Shane’s the person he sees the most for the last four years.

Even Obi likes him now, and that should be a pretty big accomplishment in anyone’s book. 

He knows things could change, how the rapid flow of the devouring internet and humanity itself could rush in and tear everything apart any second. And Ryan’s really not the praying type, but  _ for god’s sake _ , he hopes they could stay like this through it all. 

He searches Shane’s face, and he’s almost glad that he’s already too far gone.

"I love you." Ryan whispers, testing the words on his tongue, just to see how they feel. He's been avoiding them on purpose, Ryan thinks, guilt clenching in his gut. But it's difficult to face them when the words still hurt, spikes of broken hearts sharp and piercing to the touch. Words that were broken with halfhearted goodbyes and see-yous that should have lasted forever. 

But it feels right here, now. It fits right into the dynamic of the two of them, Ryan and Shane, together.

Ryan thinks he could say it again. 

His eyes prickle, and he smiles in the darkness, pressing a hand against his mouth to muffle the sob that’s trying to form.

"Love you Ry." Shane murmurs. 

  
  


It's a wonder Ryan managed to fall asleep, but Shane and Obi's purring combined is a force to be reckoned with. 

He wakes with a fuzzy weight on his chest, and a cursory stretch reveals the kitten had somehow deemed him worthy of a pillow at some point in the night, Obi's little soft face tucked against Ryan’s chest, his whiskers tickling bare skin. It’s another bright sunny weekend in LA, and as far as Ryan’s concerned it can stay that way forever. 

“Mornin’.” He murmurs, reaching down to scratch behind the little hellion’s ears. 

Obi shoots him a dirty look but accepts the touch, then he pads over to nestle right into the curve of Shane’s neck. The other man wakes in a half start. 

“Wha-” Shane sputters, fluttering hands coming up to investigate the warm scarf that Obi has become, “oh, it’s you.”

“Hey sleepyhead, feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Shane sounds strained, trying to speak without jostling the kitten too much, the animal’s purrs sounding in time with Shane’s voice. “Movement’s out of the question for a bit though.”

“He was sleeping on me all night, you’re on nursing duty now.” Ryan gives Shanes ribs a light poke, delighting in the pained way he tries to shift without actually moving.

“We’ve got a homicide going on here officer, you’re not going to investigate that?” Shane does a rapid-fire series of blinks, maybe there’s also a wink in there, but Ryan really can’t tell, he really hopes Shane isn’t having a stroke. 

Obi’s tail flicks and curls around to rest across Shane’s nose, and the man lets out a strangled sound. 

“That depends,” Ryan grins, tapping his chin, “It just so happens I might suddenly not see anything, you know, cats are such gentle animals.”

“Oh, you’re evil.” 

“I’m not the one that put that characteristic in my sims character,” Ryan reminds him, laughing, "Come on, you think your throat can take waffles?" Shane's eyes light up. 

"Oh yes please, they are the superior batter food after all."

"Why you gotta keep shitting on pancakes?"

"Cause it's fun to see you get all puffy about it." Now that's definitely a wink. How the fuck does he have the energy to do all this when he was burning up with a fever just yesterday? Evolution is so not fair. 

"You,” He flounders, “your mom gets puffy. You’re just a sore loser" Ryan huffs, and has to take a leaping jump off the bed when Shane reaches out a hand to swat at him.

"Oh I'm not the one that should be worried about that getting sore." Shane raises an eyebrow and his eyes go dark. Ryan shivers. 

"Promises promises."

Shane flails again, but Ryan's too quick for him, already jumping back with a giggle. And Shane just lays there with an arm and half his torso dangling off the bed, a little ball of orange fur draped across his throat purring like an engine. 

He blinks up at Ryan with that shit-eating grin on his face, and Ryan falls for him a little bit more. 

  
  


Ryan busies himself around the kitchen, sliding a cup of tea onto the counter when Shane ambles into the room, rubbing at his eyes. Obi pads over to the corner and starts on his breakfast. 

"You were pretty out of it last night." Ryan leans back against the sink, sipping at his coffee. 

"I say anything stupid when I was high on cold medicine?"

There's a twinge in his chest, "Oh I dunno, what counts as stupid?"

"Hmm, a lotta things." Shane's palms are wrapped tight around the mug, and it must burn, but his hands clench around it like they need something to hold onto. He meets Ryan's eyes, "But nothing I regret."

There’s a slight ringing in his ears. Ryan swallows, pushing down the thoughts that erupt at the words. He cracks a smile, "You sure that's not because you don't remember what you're supposed to regret?"

"Pretty sure." Shane grins back, but his gaze turns serious again, settling on Ryan with a steady weight. "You said things too."

Ryan's breathing is coming short. He wonders idly if there's a tea that can fix that. Shane can probably find one. "I did." He hedges. 

"Anything you regret?" Shane's fingertips are white against the navy blue mug, and there's a vulnerability in his face that Ryan wants to kiss away. 

It may be a lazy number nine their kitchen clock’s pointing at, but it’s still too early to have this sort of conversation.

But it would eventually come to this point, Ryan thinks. No matter what they can and may do or say in the dark of night under the haze of sleep and liquor, no matter how passionate or desperate or all-encompassing it gets, it will always come down to this, the reckoning in the sobering light of morning. 

And maybe it’s better this way, when the harsh sunlight throws no more shadows to hide, leaving truths bare in trembling hands. 

"Never." Ryan breathes with what's left of the air in his lungs, and watches the tension in Shane’s shoulders melt away. 

"Oh thank god." 

Shane is even less of the praying type, but the hushed words scrape closer to divine gratitude than Ryan’s ever heard.

Then Shane's pulling him close between the counters, enveloping him in a hug that shakes slightly with the effort. “Thank God,” Shane says again, breaths hitching against Ryan’s chest. 

Ryan returns the pressure, rubbing small circles between Shane’s shoulders and murmuring  _ I’ve got you _ s and  _ I know _ s into his shoulder. 

“Oh look at me, crying on a Saturday morning.” Shane sniffles, pulling back and wiping at his eyes. The sun catches the wet patches trailing down his cheeks and Ryan is dazzled by the light. He brushes at the tears with a hand at the other man’s face.

“I love you, Shane Madej.” He says, loud and clear into the whole damn universe. It sounds nice, and makes Shane’s face light up in the prettiest way. Ryan’s never going to get tired of saying it. “I love you.” He repeats.

Slowly, Shane cups Ryan’s hand with his own, turning his head to brush a kiss to Ryan’s palm. It’s stupidly tender, stuff Ryan’s seen in every romantic movie, and Shane makes it even softer.

“I love you too.”

Shane’s eyes do the crinkly thing at the corners, and Ryan just wants to kiss this insanely kind and caring of an idiot he’s fallen so completely for. So he does. 

“Wanna hear what other stupid things you said last night?” Ryan teases, breathless when they break apart, and Shane wheezes out a laugh. 

“Yeah? Let’s list my crimes.”

“You were super paranoid about me getting sick,” Ryan says, catching the corner of Shane’s t-shirt and tugging slightly, “You kept talking about how cold I was in your sleep and-”

“That's cause I had a fever and your heart is made out of ice.”

“Is that why you like me!” Ryan grins, pointing an accusing finger, “I called it you yeti!”

And Ryan relishes in the fact that Shane doesn’t have a comeback to that, because Shane leans in again, and Ryan thinks as their lips meet, that he’ll even be generous enough to not hold it against him. 

Yeah. He definitely won’t. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come chat on [ Tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deathfrisbeeinthetardis) and send me prompts if you feel like it <3


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